I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

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The Words of Fools (1)

This conquest of Georgia is certainly a retaliation against betrayal, preventing the regions that have come under the Ottoman sway from harboring foolish thoughts.

It showcases Ismail in rage, imposing a scorched earth strategy that cuts into his own flesh.

Of course, this latter approach requires several delicate maneuvers and there’s no guarantee of complete success, but it was enough to give Ismail a headache.

While the external reason lay in avenging betrayal, the internal aim was to create external enemies to unite the internal realm, discovering various issues through the first attempt at direct rule.

“Identifying those issues is the most crucial.”

With all his brothers killed and having even played the prophet, he was now firmly in power, more secure than any Sultan before him.

This means there was no reason to worry about weak internal discontent, and the focus must shift towards identifying problems.

– Screech!

– Mooom!

The looting period came to an end, and those turned into slaves were dragged along with the spoils into Ottoman territory.

No matter how common such events may be in this era, it was a harsh scene, yet Yusuf calmly observed it.

Women, loosely bound, were herded in a line, while children were transported like cargo in carts.

What he needed to feel watching this scene wasn’t sympathy but a determination to ensure that those who entered his fold wouldn’t suffer the same fate.

Had the rescue from Trabzon delayed, a far worse scene would have unfolded.

“Şemsi Pasha, how is the condition of the Urfan cannons?”

“Out of the 13 we brought, the first one fired is completely ruined, but the others didn’t fire and are intact.”

“Make sure to remind the artillerymen. They shouldn’t believe that Allah will smile upon us again, as he did this time.”

The fact that the first cannon fired breached the gate was merely luck.

Considering that cannonball trajectory has evolved from the frequent bombardments of the Age of Discovery, it’s basically a matter of shooting aimlessly based on intuition.

While small cannons might be manageable, the 100kg of gunpowder that a Urfan cannon uses at once definitely isn’t something you can practice with; it’s more like scratching a lottery ticket.

Just because luck favored them this time doesn’t guarantee it will again, and it would be fortunate if they hit the wall.

“More importantly, the great cannon.”

An impressive piece like the Urfan cannon was certainly captivating.

It could demoralize the enemy merely by its presence and invoke fear, at least granting it recognition for its destructive power when it hit the target.

“There are still some useful ones left.”

The paradigm of war doesn’t change for no reason.

As cannons became widespread, fortifications made of stone and earth began to be mixed to absorb shocks, and defenders also started using cannons.

It’s natural for the attacking side to require even greater destructive power and longer range, which is the reason for the proliferation of great cannons.

With the great cannons smashing through hard-fought gates and walls, the strategy of locking up in fortresses became untenable, indicating a shift from siege warfare to field operations.

The age of great cannon destruction faded away, making way for the era of mobile and easily operated field cannons.

“But still, siege warfare dominates this era more than field battles.”

They had to deploy cannons as the times demanded, and there was still ample opportunity for great cannons to be useful.

“Don’t you think the Urfan cannon is too large?”

“Doesn’t it justify its value?”

“It might seem so at first glance.”

Yusuf replied while taking in the sight of the Urfan cannon visible even from outside the fort.

“To be frank, I wonder if there’s even a need to operate such a large cannon.”

He thought it might be better to melt it down and create multiple cannons of appropriate size instead.

When Şemsi hesitated to respond to his remark, Yusuf waved his hand dismissively.

“Forget it. We can take our time to see through this war. You’re not an expert, and that was a silly question.”

“My apologies.”

“Better than blabbering nonsense just to appease me, isn’t it?”

Changing weapon systems is not something to be taken lightly.

As mentioned earlier, this direct rule had an experimental character, and there would still be ample opportunities to test.

They had enough time before wars with Safavids or Mamluks, so there was no rush to make decisions after this war concluded.

“Your Majesty, all preparations are complete.”

“I understand.”

As the Janissary officer knelt to report, Yusuf slowly gazed upon the landscape of Ardahan.

What was once a resting place for many for long ages now lay bleak, nothing but countless bodies remained.

Leaving behind the gates adorned with the heads of the nobles of Ardahan who had begged for their lives, not long after, black smoke began to rise along with flames.

The fire consuming wooden buildings and stacks of straw within, grew larger, engulfing the heaps of corpses.

Feeling the oppressive heat of the flames that seemed to reach for the sun, Yusuf softly murmured.

“It’s like a beacon, isn’t it?”

A signal announcing the calamity to unfold in Georgia.

With the news of Ardahan turned to ashes, the Ottoman army began its advance once more.

*

What had seemed a momentary delay in Ardahan turned into a full-scale march towards Ardahan, approximately 80km east.

Upon hearing this news, the nations of Georgia clutched their heads in despair, with Samtskhe especially descending into panic.

“W-wipeout! No one is left alive in their hands!”

One nobleman, forgetting his poise, yelled furiously, but no one chastised him.

After all, they merely felt the urge to scream themselves.

When Ardahan was captured, they hadn’t been this frightened. There was still a glimmer of hope.

But now the unexpected had become reality, the Ottoman army was acting as if they intended to scrub Georgia from the map.

Kvirkvare lifted one corner of his mouth at the resentful gazes directed at him.

“Are you blaming me now? It wasn’t just my decision.”

Those gathered here were those who had betrayed Mzechabuk for greater power, clinging to Kvirkvare’s hands.

They had agreed to betray the Ottomans, and it was somewhat shameful to place blame on anyone.

No matter how right the words might be, they further poisoned an already dismal atmosphere, which quickly turned dark.

“Everyone calm down! We don’t have time for this.”

Despite the air full of vicious curses, a quick intervenor managed to prevent things from spiraling out of control.

First to take charge was Rusudan, who spoke with an as calm a voice as possible.

“Our Samtskhe has been forsaken. Isn’t that so?”

As it became hard to placate the fury of the Ottomans, they sent an envoy to the Safavids, but that too bore no fruit.

All they did was promise verbal aid, while the other Georgian nations banded together, hoping the wrath of the Ottomans would end with Samtskhe.

Rusudan’s cold remark rounded out the heavy silence.

“Then what shall we do?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to attack the Ottoman army instead?”

East of Samtskhe was rugged mountainous terrain, and someone proposed this suggestion.

“Don’t say foolish things! Do you really think attacking is feasible?”

Even with the natural barricades of mountains, there was no confidence in facing the Ottomans.

They had already shoved their troops at Ardahan, and in just one day it had fallen, leaving no hope.

“And now news comes that they’ve reached the city of Shabshat, already at the end of the mountainous terrain?”

“Then shouldn’t we abandon other cities and concentrate on the capital, Akhaltsikhe?”

The capital lay merely 80km from Ardahan, and it was clear that once Ardahan fell, the next target would be Akhaltsikhe.

“…Do you think other cities will willingly part with their troops?”

The authority that Samtskhe held had long since hit rock bottom, and the likelihood of the lords willingly giving up soldiers to save their own skins was slim.

As the heavy silence descended upon them, in a moment of desperation, a nobleman shouted out.

“Then what shall we do!”

As thick silence settled over the assembly, an urgent voice broke in.

– A-a crucial message!

“…What is it!?”

Among the news to come, there surely couldn’t be any good tidings, but there was no ignoring it.

The messenger who entered through the wide-open door knelt roughly, delivering the urgent news.

“A-a riot has broken out in Ardahan!”

If only they hadn’t heard that news.

*

Yusuf had been working to incite a riot in Georgia even before the invasion began.

Not merely to make the occupation easier. Honestly, with the military strength of the soon-to-be flourishing Ottoman army, conquering Georgia was too simple a task.

‘What matters is the betrayal of the nobles they’ve served for so long.’

They wouldn’t crave the traitors they had betrayed, and should a fleeing noble attempt to return, support from the Georgian subjects would be hard to secure.

Though he attempted various schemes, he honestly believed it wouldn’t be easy.

The Georgian subjects had long been steeped in feudal practices, rendering them passive, making it hard for dissatisfaction to erupt into organized uprisings.

At least he thought toppling Samtskhe might yield results, yet the world often unfolds in unexpected directions.

Clang! Clang!

The news of the Ottoman army approaching turned Ardahan into a focused military stronghold.

Armed soldiers patrolled the streets with grim faces, while the recently fled citizens had no place to hide from the rain, taking refuge in alleyways.

“Shabshat must have been conquered too!”

Rolling thunderous sounds echoed several times, and people in Ardahan stared vacantly at the faraway smoke.

The distance between them was just 30km, nearly flat terrain, well within a day’s run distance.

As the rumored threat loomed closer, fear gripped everyone, while children, having slipped from their parents’ grasp, chattered excitedly.

“Something huge is coming! They say that once it spits fire, even solid walls crumble! Right?”

“Yeah! An uncle told me. Those walls over there will fall to pieces in an instant!”

Oblivious to the implications of Ardahan’s walls crumbling, children spoke brightly, while parents rushed to hush them.

But that was the very moment the words reached ears that shouldn’t have heard them.

“Say that again!”

A nobleman patrolling nearby seized the child’s neck angrily, lifting him up, while a frantic woman that appeared to be the child’s mother rushed over.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry! Please spare my child! He didn’t know what he was saying!”

“Shut up!”

Kicking the helplessly clinging woman as though she were dirt, the noble turned red-faced, choking the child’s neck.

Tossing the limp child aside, he leveled his knife at the blank-eyed woman cradling her dead child.

“If anyone spreads baseless rumors, I’ll have no mercy!”

With that, the noble swung his sword at the remaining child, and in an instant, two lives were lost.

As everyone stood frozen, unable to speak, someone shouted out loudly.

“Let’s kill those devilish nobles! Why must we die at their hands!”

The voice, like the whisper of a demon, cut through the crowd, and the first to respond were the parents who had just lost their children.

As the woman, bleeding from a stab wound, tore into the noble’s face in vengeance, the common folk began to rise.

“…Spread the news throughout the city.”

The first to raise their voice stepped back and spoke, while the group dispersed quickly.

Gazing at the area shrouded in smoke, the man murmured.

“All for the Padishah.”

Thus began the riot.